


The Beginning of the End

by Morteamore



Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bad Ending, Bathing/Washing, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Bonding, Forced subordination, Knotting, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reluctant stimulation, Siren Troy, Size Difference, forced stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morteamore/pseuds/Morteamore
Summary: The Vault Hunters have all been defeated at the hands of Troy Calypso, who has come into his true powers as an alpha siren. Not even his own sister Tyreen has been spared. Enter one survivor, the omega Rhys. When Troy discovers him on the final battleground, he decides he's more valuable to him alive than dead, and proceeds to force his new life upon him.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Rhys
Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950712
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinktober prompts: ABO and size difference
> 
> Please heed all the tags for this one before reading. It's rather bleak in some regards, and they're pretty much a roadmap for what the story contains.

There was blood on the air, coppery and heady. It spattered the ground beneath Troy Calypso’s feet, his jagged, crimson wings beating out a rhythm to keep him elevated as he surveyed the battlefield. He raised the sword in his hand high, readying it for his next victim. But there wasn’t anybody left, just a pile of bodies scattered haphazardly atop one another, their wounds dire, some missing limbs entirely. At least one of them had been beheaded, their head nowhere to be found.

“Is that all you vault thieves have in you?” he yelled out, a streak of lightning running jagged from a purpled cloud in the same moment, illuminating his features. They were twisted with bloodlust, his lips pulled back from his metallic fangs, making his grin uneven and manic. He was streaked in blood so thick it looked like freshly donned war paint, the excess dripping from his body to the stained earth below. Slowly, he lowered himself, one booted foot sliding lightly against the ground, followed by the next as he made a soft landing. “Guess so. That’s what happens when you try to mess with the best.”

There was no reply. The heavens rumbled ominously, quietly. Troy’s gaze shifted around him, attempting to seek out any remaining stragglers among the corpses. As an alpha, it was his nose he relied on most. Over the heavy scent of sulfur and Pandoran sediment, Troy could just make out the faintest hint of a living entity nearby. Not just any entity, either. Whoever remained here among the slaughtered Crimson Traitors and their foolish allies was a bonafide omega. The realization only enticed Troy’s incentive to find them. It couldn’t be too hard. There weren’t many places to hide here, among the broken rock formations of Pandora.

Digistructing his sword away, as he doubted he needed it any longer, Troy ignored the stench of death and followed the more enticing smell of omega. As he trailed closer, the scent became more concentrated, clearer. A shadowed cavern in the rock was redolent of a strange combination of scents: paper-bound books and coffee beans with just a hint of caramel. The grin on Troy’s face only widened. Reaching into the opening with his bloodied robotic hand, he grabbed a hold of something warm and solid, dragging it out.

“And who do we have holed up in this little hidey hole?” Troy mused as a tall and lanky man emerged from the fissure, secured tightly within his grasp. “Another lamb for the slaughter?”

The man visibly paled in his hold, hands moving to shield his face as if bracing for his impending doom. Cackling, Troy hauled him up by a single leg instead, suspending the body in front of him as if he were a prime slab of meat. In his current form, Troy towered over him.

“Nah, you’re different,” he purred. “ _Omega_ , aren’t ya? Vault Thieves must have been pretty dumb to drag something as precious as you out here.”

That, or desperate. 

Squinting, Troy regarded the man for a moment. He was clad in black, pinstripes running down one side of his pants leg, a tear in one of the knees. An un-tucked white oxford shirt clung with dirt and grime to his upper torso. His red tie was knocked askew, his rich chestnut hair, which looked as if it was usually combed neatly back, also in disarray. 

“Wait, I’ve seen you before,” Troy began, wagging a finger at the other man as if thinking. “You’re that dude that runs Atlas. Forget your name off the top of my head, but Katagawa wanted your ass _real_ bad. Now I know why.”

“It’s Rhys,” the man practically shouted at him, his neck straining so he could glare at him. “O-oh, god. Y-you’re an a—alpha?”

“What else you’d think I’d be? A goddam beta?”

“A siren—an _evil_ siren, at that—and an alpha. I-I don’t need this right now. What did I do to deserve this?”

“Picked the wrong side, for one.” Troy laughed, grin spreading across his features. “Not that there’s much left of those Crimson Wannabes for you to stick by anymore.”

“W-what? What did you do to them?” 

“Killed them, duh.” Troy’s tone was nonchalant. “Which is why I’m _exactly_ what you need right now. There’s no one left to protect you, little omega. This planet is mine now. And soon I’ll be lording over the rest of the six galaxies like the _god_ that I am.”

“T-they’re dead?” Voice high and thin, Rhys struggled in Troy’s grip only to have it tighten further. “You monster!”

Eyes narrowing to slits, Troy raised his robotic arm until he could stare directly into the omega’s face, Rhys’ pupils blown wide and full of fear. 

“You sound like my sister. She called me a monster, too,” Troy said, sounding almost too calm. “Worse things, even. Knothead, parasite…weak. But look where it got her now.”

In Troy’s hold, the omega visibly shook.

“She got what she deserved in the end. But you don’t have to worry about all that, Rhys. You’re lucky.”

“I…beg to differ,” Rhys muttered. “Seeing as you p-pretty much slaughtered all my comrades.”

Chuckling, Troy ran his hand over the omega’s cheek. “You’re not going to end up like them,” he said. “You’re going to rule by my side as my very own omega.”

Eyes going wide, Rhys smacked the other man’s hand away. “You’re insane!” he spat. ”There’s no way in hell I’d let you claim me.”

“And whose gonna stop me? Those Atlas foot soldiers of yours?” Troy asked, making a show of looking around. “I don’t see them coming to your aid. So, hey, bonus for me, I guess. Besides, once I bond you, you won’t be spewing those kinds of protests.”

“You can’t force me to bond with you.” Though Rhys spoke with conviction, there was an evident waver to his words. “Nobody will respect you for that, or us, for that matter. Other alphas will come to challenge you for me. My _people_ will come.”

“What part of the fact that I’m a god now didn’t you understand?” Realizing he was snarling in Rhys’ face, Troy drew back, attempting to compose himself. “Just…just shut up already, will ya? We’re leaving.”

Those words only made Rhys fight harder. He squirmed in Troy’s grasp, trying to break the hold on him. The alpha just laughed, his wings spreading wide. They caught and beat the air, lifting the two of them off the ground.

“Do you really wanna struggle while we’re airborne?” Troy teased. “Careful, I might drop you.”

Immediately Rhys stopped fighting and went still. Sure enough, they were lifting, the ground getting smaller beneath him with every passing second. Out of instinct, his arms went around the nearest solid mass that would ground him. Which just happened to be Troy’s torso. The alpha chuckled darkly as he felt the hands scrambling at him lock in place. 

“Oh, yeah, I completely forgot,” Troy said, reveling in the smell of agitated omega. He could feel the adrenaline surging through his own blood at such a potent cocktail of scent, and was having trouble concentrating. Energy crackled around him, fiery and brilliant, engulfing the pair of them. “Why fly when you can just be anywhere you want instantly?”

In a surge of energy, the fiery ball twisted into a tornado, closing in on them. The feeling of being broken down into the very particles that made up their beings and rearranged somewhere on another planet was agonizing, but they also didn’t have to endure it for too long. On one knee, Troy found himself outside the Atlas headquarters, Rhys’ body in an awkward position as his hands dug into Troy’s bare skin. That was going to leave marks, but not ones that were unwelcomed. Leaping up in a heartbeat, Troy unfurled his wings once more, racing high up along the side of the building. When he got to the topmost floor, he unleashed a flurry of energy, smashing the windows. Glass rained down in a deadly hail. 

“Did you really have to destroy my home like that?” Despite his fear, Rhys sounded furious.

“This is your home?” Troy guided them carefully between the broken glass, landing in the center of a carpeted space, glass crunching under his boots. “Damn. Sorry, dude. I thought this would be your office.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Suppose it doesn’t.” Grasping one of Rhys’ hands, Troy pried the man off of himself and let him down, careful not to deposit him on any of the glass. Rhys stumbled several steps backwards before rising to his full height. “Not that it really matters. Your desk or your bed or, hey, even your shower—I’m still going to fuck you senseless.” 

“You’re going to _what_? Oh, no. No way. If you think I’m one of those omegas who rolls over in the presence of any alpha and—and just puts out, you’re dead wrong.”

Hands on his hips, Troy looked around the room, drinking in the overall aesthetic. It possessed a classic-meets-ultra modern style, antique couches situated in front of a giant holo screen, famous paintings adorning the wall next to what looked like recent photos. There was a faux fireplace complete with hearth, awards lined up on the mantle. The alpha whistled low, reaching up and removing one of the awards to examine it.

“Good thing that’s not what I think then,” he finally said, his smirk dangerous as he looked over at Rhys. “What I _think_ is that by the end of the night, you’ll be begging me to bang ya of your own free will. And if not….” Troy’s shoulders heaved in a shrug. “Who knows, really?”

Rhys’ eyes went wide. He turned to make a break for the exit, get himself out of the situation, but he only made it a few steps. A bubble of energy appeared around him, trapping him in place, suspending him above the ground. He glared at Troy, brows drawn in an angry ‘v’.

The award went flying out the window as Troy tossed it aside. “You’re rather feisty, ain’t ya?” he remarked. “But whatever. You’re dealing with a god, now, Rhys. There’s no way you can run from me, and even if you could, everyone who could’ve saved your ass is _dead_.”

Troy sat down on the antique couch, sprawling across it, barely fitting. One of his legs was drawn up on to the pillows, the other braced on the floor, his robotic limb draped over the headrest. He gestured and the bubble dissipated, dropping Rhys to the floor. 

“You’re getting blood on my couch,” Rhys observed as he righted himself.

“And what exactly are you gonna do about it?” 

“The least you could do is clean yourself up.” 

“Actually, not a bad idea.” Troy stroked his chin with his mechanical fingers. “Strip.”

“I…w—what? Are you nuts? I’m not the one who needs a shower.”

“Did I stutter?” Troy quirked a brow. “Pretty sure I didn’t, omega. Now get out of those clothes before I force you out myself. And don’t question me.”

“You’re a sorry excuse for an alpha,” Rhys spat. “You…you _knothead_.”

For a moment, Troy’s eyes flashed crimson. He bared his teeth and growled. “Are you _trying_ to piss me off, man? I could end you just like I did the others, ya know. I’d barely need to lift a finger at this point.”

“Do you really want omega blood on your hands?” The look in Rhys’ gaze was one of challenge. “Especially since you plan to, er, use me.”

“Fair point. I guess it’d be a faux pas to kill you and all. Don’t mean I won’t do other things to you. So, not gonna say it again: get those goddam clothes off.”

It looked, for a moment, like Rhys was going to continue to protest, to not back down from Troy. In the end, though, he realized it was futile to fight the alpha, not to mention dangerous. His body slumped in place, his head drooping. He nodded once, turning his gaze away as both mechanical and flesh hands reached for his tie. He loosened the garment, undoing the knot, sliding it away from his neck.

“Look at me while you’re undressing,” Troy said. 

It took some time, but Rhys’ gaze eventually traveled back to meet Troy’s. His ECHOeye glowed a brilliant blue, as if smoldering. Fingers fumbled at the buttons of his oxford shirt, the fabric wrinkling as he took his time undoing the buttons. Beneath, the brilliant blue of his tattoo was revealed, scrawled across his pectoral, swirling down his arm when he began to take his sleeve off. There was interest in Troy’s expression, his gaze following the intricate patterns down, down to Rhys’ wrist.

“Damn, that tat is _sick_ ,” he remarked, looking pleased. “Almost like a siren’s marks.”

“It’s not siren marks,” Rhys insisted pointedly.

“I _know_ that. I said it’s _like_ them. There’s only room for one male siren in the six galaxies, and it’s moi.”

“Are you even considered a real siren?”

“You really wanna test me? Besides, I don’t remember saying you could stop.”

With a huff, Rhys shrugged out of the rest of his shirt, tossing it in Troy’s direction. It was meant to be an ornery gesture, but Troy caught the garment, lifting the material to his nose and inhaling. Again, there were the scents of paperback books and coffee with caramel, only stronger now, almost overbearing. Troy sighed loudly, taking a few smaller whiffs, committing the smells to memory.

Rhys had stopped undressing. He peered at Troy, until the alpha finally lowered the shirt from his nose.

“You smell pretty goddam good,” Troy said, raising one shoulder in a shrug.

There was some hesitancy in Rhys’ movements as he reached for his belt. He slid the leather through the buckle as if in slow motion, drawing out the moments in which he undid the clasps. The belt was tossed aside, Rhys sighing heavily. His hands worked the button of his pants open, then the zipper. Troy inclined his head, his eyelids drooping. He looked like a king appraising his horde of gold as Rhys pushed the slacks down his legs, acting as detached from the action as he possibly could. His shoes were kicked off, the pants abandoned. Standing in nothing but striped boxer shorts, Rhys crossed his arms over his chest.

“I meant the underwear too,” Troy told him. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

A dark look crossed Rhys’ features. Again, he didn’t move at first. 

“It’s not a request,” the alpha spoke up. 

“I’m aware,” Rhys answered. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to do as you say.”

“Oh yeah?” Troy rose from the couch, crossing the distance between them in a few easy strides. He grabbed Rhys by the arm with his flesh hand, leaving bloody smears where he touched the omega’s skin. With a single tug, he was hauling Rhys down the hall, peering into doorways as they passed them. The omega tried to dig his heels into the rug, fighting against Troy’s grip, but it was futile. He was dragged along as if he weighed nothing more than a sack of feathers. 

“Here we are,” Troy remarked as they came to the bathroom. There was a sunken tub situated in the middle of the room, large and ornate with what looked like a complex set of controls. Troy pushed Rhys towards them. “Out of those boxers and run me a bath.”

“Am I your slave now?”

A sly look passed over the alpha’s features. “I like to think of you as my little subordinate.”

“Great.” Rhys drew out the word, tapping a button embedded in the control panel. There was a distinct humming sound as the jets whirred to life, then water was spewing out into the tub. “There’s your bath, sir Rexford.”

“Uh, my name’s Troy.”

In a deadpan, Rhys answered, “I know.”

Through his nostrils, Troy let out a long breath. “You know what?” Troy used his robotic hand to grab a hold of the hem of Rhys’ boxers. The omega yelped, trying to scramble out of the hold on him. “I’ve had enough of this shit. These are coming off.” The material tore away as Troy gave the underwear a harsh tug. The ruined garment was tossed to the ground, Rhys standing there unmoving as if he’d been frozen in place. Troy’s gaze roamed down to his groin, staring at the flaccid length that hung between his legs. “You’ve got a nice sized dick for an omega.”

That seemed to snap Rhys out of his trance. His hands went to his crotch, trying to cover it in a futile attempt at decency. Troy chuckled, running his mechanical fingers down Rhys’ chest, stopping at his solar plexus, a bloody smear left in his wake.

“No reason to be shy around me.” The hand pulled away. Troy fumbled with his own belt, undoing it. “You and I are going to be intimately acquainted really, really soon.”

All the bravado left Rhys at once. He gulped, staring up at the enormous alpha like prey baring its neck to the predator. The smell of stressed omega permeated the room, clinging to the spaces around them. On Troy’s face, a cocky grin spread like wildfire. He finished fumbling with his pants, pushing them down his thighs, revealing that he was bereft of undergarments. His cock stood at half mast, large and intimidating. Rhys’ heart palpitated as he imagined having to wrangle something of that size. 

“Can this thing do that thing with the bubbles?” Troy asked.

Without speaking, Rhys hit another button, the water suddenly rife with bubbles. Troy swung a leg over the edge, the warmth of the water touching his skin relaxing him. He dragged the other leg in behind him, lowering until what he could fit of himself (which wasn’t much) was situated in the basin of the tub, his mechanical arm hanging over the side. The water went muddy red as the blood was washed from his body, his fingers snapping at Rhys.

“Why don’t you be a good omega and wash me down,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “I’m too comfortable to move.”

With no fight in him left to make a remark, Rhys was forced to remove his hands from his crotch. He sorted through the bathroom closet, coming up with some fresh wash cloths and carrying them over. Kneeling, he was sure not to use his best products as he wet the cloth and soaped it up, touching it tentatively to Troy’s exposed shoulder. The alpha hummed and cracked an eye open, closing it just as quickly. 

“No need to be gentle about it,” he said. “I ain’t delicate.”

Silently, Rhys pressed the cloth harder to Troy’s skin, scrubbing with thorough strokes. He made quick work of the man’s upper torso, careful to skip any erogenous zones. As he made his way downward, he avoided Troy’s groin, leaning in to wash the man’s thigh instead. But the alpha grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his hand under the water until the cloth was wrapped around his monstrous cock. Rhys got the hint quickly. He stroked the alpha’s length with the cloth, Troy groaning as he canted his hips towards the omega’s touch. 

“Shit, that feels _really_ good,” Troy murmured, his eyes slowly cracking open. He watched Rhys for some time through the slit of his eyelids. “I could fall asleep like this. But then I’d miss all the fun.” At that, Rhys found it in himself to glower at the alpha. Troy just reached out and stroked back Rhys’ hair with his flesh hand, getting it damp. “Aw, don’t look at me like that, little omega. We’re just getting started.”

When Rhys moved his hand away from Troy’s dick, the alpha didn’t protest. He was fully erect now, though still submerged beneath the water. The omega was glad for that. He washed Troy’s legs without much ceremony, declaring he was finished as he pulled the wash cloth from the water.

“Normally I’d say you missed a few spots, but I’m looking forward to dragging you to your bed too much to care. Now get me a towel. Unless you want me to just drip dry everywhere.”

“I’d rather you not,” Rhys remarked and found his older towels in the bathroom closet. He set one down on the floor, then held the other out for Troy to take. The alpha rose in one fluid motion, as if it took him no effort at all to stand up. His erection jutted out in front of him, seemingly even girthier and more intimidating at full size. His gaze falling everywhere but on it, Rhys did his best to ignore its presence. Luckily for him, Troy wrapped the towel around himself, hiding it from view for the time being. His flesh hand gripped Rhys’ upper arm, his fingers like a vice. 

“Where’s the bedroom at?” he asked.

“At the end of the hall,” Rhys said, resigning himself to being truthful. “You can’t miss it.”

They made their way there, Rhys tugged along behind Troy as if he were the alpha’s prisoner (which he might as well have been). The door was only slightly ajar. It opened with a creak as Troy pushed it the rest of the way. The room wasn’t as lavish as expected. It looked lived-in and functional, but was sparsely decorated. A large writing desk took up one corner of the room, and a poster displaying an old advertisement for Atlas hung over the bed, but that was mostly all. The bed itself wasn’t overly large, but it looked spacious enough to fit a couple people. Someone even of Troy’s size wouldn’t have a problem getting comfortable.

“Get on the bed, omega.” Rhys began to move forward, stopped. He looked up at Troy, silently pleading with him, but the alpha just let out a grunt. “I said up on the bed. Preferably on your stomach.”

The urgency in Troy’s voice was a potent source of motivation. Rhys stopped procrastinating and lifted one knee on to the bed, the soft mattress dipping with his weight. He clambered up on to it, feeling exposed and vulnerable as he buried his face into a pillow, his lanky form going as taut as a bowstring. The bed dipped again as Troy joined him, robotic and flesh hands taking up an ankle each and spreading Rhys’ legs apart. His mechanical fingers sought out Rhys’ hole, prodding at it, the omega quivering and yelping at the cold and rigid touch.

“Why aren’t you slick yet?” Troy asked. His tone sounded guttural, as if his voice came from an inhuman throat. 

“It takes more than just dominating me and poking me in the ass to get me slick, you know,” Rhys answered, careful to keep his tone neutral. “Have you been with an omega before?”

“Of course I have. Omegas can’t keep their hands off me. Usually just my presence alone is enough to make them slicker than a monsoon.”

“Well, sorry to let you down, but it’s going to take more than just you being here to get me prepared.”

“Ain’t that a shame.” Untying the knot in the towel at his waist, Troy let the material fall away. Grabbing a handful of Rhys’ ass, he pried it open, his flesh hand gripping the base of his own cock to guide it.

Rhys lifted his head from the pillow and looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

The head of Troy’s length graced Rhys’ hole, slipping over it and riding against the cleft of his ass. The alpha shifted his hips a few times, letting it glide back forth, the friction causing him to sigh. “Come on, man, what do you think I’m doing? Just relax.”

“No. No way. You are _not_ putting that monster in me without any preparation whatsoever. That’s where I-ah! H-holy shit!”

The glans of Troy’s dick had caught on Rhys’ entrance and found purchase, was beginning to push in. The omega’s back arched, his muscles tightening once more, trying to refuse Troy entry. But the alpha just pushed harder, the resistance melting around him in small intervals. The omega grit his teeth and tried to squirm out from underneath him. Troy’s robotic hand came down on his back, dwarfing him and rendering him immobile. For all his resistance, Rhys was still getting slick, his body responding to the penetration of its own accord. The alpha slipped in further, causing Rhys to cry out, though not entirely in protest.

“That’s it, omega,” Troy drawled at him, leaning forward so that he was caging the smaller man in. “You just let me have my way with you, and I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

Rhys didn’t say anything, breathing hard through his nostrils. He shoved his face into the pillow, the sounds that came from him muffled. Behind him, Troy drove himself in deeper, and deeper still, until he was more than halfway in. The alpha curled around him further, like a snake with prey, trapping him with his massive form even more efficiently. The slap of their bodies colliding filled the room as Troy found a rhythm, Rhys jostled like a pebble in the ocean with the impacts. He could hear Troy’s breath in his ears, ragged and deep, feel it heated on his skin. The mere slick he produced was barely enough to lubricate the alpha’s way. Still, Troy drove his girthy length into him without much care for his wellbeing, and Rhys just wanted to scream his frustration. He doubted that would help him much, though, doubted that crying would do anything to ease his discomfort. So he took it, dry eyed and silently, hoping Troy would finish soon.

He didn’t. Perhaps the worst bit of it all was that, trapped against the bed by his own body, Rhys’ dick was hard and throbbing from the stimulation, aching for release. Each brutal rock of his hips against the mattress ignited the desire, which twined with his distress and sent his mind reeling. 

“I hope you’re ready for my knot,” came Troy’s voice, slithering directly into Rhys’ ear. “It’s a lot to take.”

Rhys didn’t like the sound of that. Even as Troy said it, he could feel something at the base of Troy’s cock catching on his entrance, stretching him just a little wider every time the alpha thrust in. His whole body shook, fearful of what Troy’s words implied, again trying to fight the enormous alpha’s grip on him. The strength in the robotic limb was impossible to contend with. And breaking out from beneath a body so much larger and more powerful than his own was like fighting against a steel cage. He felt the speed of Troy’s thrusts increase, his breathing taking on a staccato rhythm. Despite everything, Rhys felt like something was building up within his viscera, like he might explode at any moment. It was equal parts terrifying as it was exhilarating. He let the pounding rhythm raise him higher and higher, until he was spilling over the point on no return. He could feel his own jism beneath him, warm and wet, as it permeated the bed.

Not long after, Troy was slamming himself against the omega, his knot swelling even as he gave a howl of release. Rhys clenched around him in defense, his body acting out of instinct, and it just made the alpha’s sounds more primal. Troy was cumming inside him, filling him up with abandon. There was just so much of the substance that it refused to stay trapped. It seeped out between the seal of their bodies. Rhys could feel it dripping down along him on to his balls to soak into the bed sheets. He whimpered at the sensation, torn between wanting it and wanting to escape it. Ultimately, he knew he couldn’t do the latter. Troy’s knot was just as huge as the rest of him, keeping them locked in place.

The alpha wasn’t finished with his tasks, however. Rhys felt the growl reverberating through him first, its origins Troy’s throat; he felt the hot heat on the back of his neck and the ghosting of teeth just above his bonding site. And then the teeth were sinking in, breaking through the bonding glad, a bubble of blood rising to the surface and trickling down. Troy stayed latched on to the site, refusing to let go of his quarry. It was excruciating, electrifying. It made Rhys’ mind ping pong between the two sensations so rapidly it all blended together. He was making noises himself, moans and gasps. But, ultimately, his body didn’t fight it, recognizing the alpha’s dominance over him.

When Troy finally wrenched his teeth away, he was gasping for breath in-between chuckles of dark laughter. Where Rhys laid still on the bed, he stayed, still tied to Troy by his knot, still reeling from what had just been done to him. He could feel the bond sparking in his brain, warm and slithering. Not something he would’ve welcomed in his right mind. In the position he was in, though, it was hard not to. He let it wash over him, shuddering when he felt Troy’s lips grace the broken skin, sucking gently at it. 

“And this is the way the world ends,” Troy murmured against his flesh, his demeanor subdued.

Rhys tried to find his voice, tried to speak, but it was difficult. He nearly choked on a sob, his lip trembling.

“You bonded to me, the most powerful alpha siren in the six galaxies,” Troy was going on, as if talking to himself. He sounded smug, the words seeming to make him untouchable. “The two of us, sitting at the edge of it all.” 

“Y—you bastard,” Rhys finally managed to say, spitting the consonants and vowels out like they were something bitter on his tongue. At last, tears welled up in his eyes. He could no longer hold them back. But instead of sadness piggybacking on the situation, there came a sudden an intense rage. “You’re supposed to be an apex alpha? I—if you were, you wouldn’t have to force an omega to b—bond with you, or into subordination! Nobody’s going to just dismiss that fact.”

Above Rhys, Troy shifted so he was enveloping him like a duvet, his knot tugging at Rhys’ insides, making him wince. There was a deep, hearty laugh that vibrated through the alpha’s huge body. “Then it’s a good thing you and I were the last ones standing. There’s nobody left to challenge me. Nobody that cares, I mean. And even if they did, they’d have to be a complete shithead to try. Just be glad I didn’t slaughter you like the others. Unless you _like_ the idea of that.”

“I’d rather by dead than bound by force to you for the rest of my life.”

“Talk about being overly dramatic.” There was a sigh from Troy, as if he found the whole situation nothing more than mildly annoying. “Get over yourself, Rhys.” And here he buried his face in Rhys’ hair, huffing up a lungful of his scent, nuzzling roughly at him. “This universe is all ours now, our dominion. It’ll be rebuilt in our names and in our image. If you ask me, neither of us could’ve been luckier.”

Rhys buried his face in the mattress, the tears streaming fully down his face now. He felt like screaming, not unlike a wounded animal caught in a trap, but couldn’t find the energy. So he lay there, waiting for Troy’s knot to shrink, for the alpha to give him some much needed rest. Some time later, it seemed Troy was small enough to pull out at last. Rhys was glad for the relief, awash with new sobs over the fact. He was going to curl up and sleep for _hours_ , try to forget about what atrocities had been done to him; he was going to gather his strength back and form a plan. Anything was better than just succumbing. 

But it seemed Troy had plans of his own. As soon as he could move his body again, he was thrusting at Rhys without warning. Hard, fast, relentlessly. It was such a shock to Rhys’ system he couldn’t even catch his breath at first. Licks of pain shot up his spine, as he hadn’t had time to get slick again. The alpha flattened him to the bed, his gangly limbs acting as anchors to weight them both down. Rhys was helpless. The only thing he could possibly manage to do was endure it. 

Troy came again, grunting out his pleasure, their bodies tied together by his knot once more. By that time, Rhys was reeling. The world felt distant and surreal, outside his mental grasp. The alpha kissed and nibbled at him, and he whimpered, the strength and will to fight siphoned from him for the time being. He didn’t know how long it was before Troy managed to be able to move off of him, only that the alpha was arranging his body on the bed, pulling back the comforter and tucking him in. It was almost gentle, but even in his compromised state Rhys wasn’t fooled. 

“I think you should try and get some rest while I dig up something to eat,” Troy was saying as if they were having a pleasant conversation. He chuckled, the sound sinister. “You’re going to need it. The night’s still young.”

Then he was gone. At least for the time being. Rhys lay in the bed, his cheeks flushed and stained with tears, though his eyes were dry now. He stared at the wall, willing himself to fall asleep, wishing for it with all the fibers of his being. 

But sleep eluded him, and when he even dared to close his eyes, his mind played a loop of Troy towering over him, Troy forcing himself on him. 

Bonding him. 

Using him, breeding him.

The images were garish and all too real. He opened his eyes to flee back to reality.

And of course, there was Troy, still naked. He was carrying a tray stacked high with fruit and sandwiches now, as if enacting some domestic ritual. Even in waking life, he was inescapable.

Rhys’ whole body trembled. The shakes racked him so badly that even his teeth chattered.

“Cold?” Sandwich in hand, Troy set the tray aside and took a seat on the edge of the bed, tucking into the food. He didn’t wait until he’d swallowed to continue, talking around his mouthful. “You’re one helluva needy omega, aren’t ya? But don’t worry. I’ll be ready to warm you right up again soon enough.”

“Please don’t,” Rhys found himself saying, hating the meagerness in his own voice. He could feel himself starting to crack again, his eyes wet once more.

Troy shushed him. Mechanical fingers tangled themselves in Rhys’ hair, smoothing it back. “It’s going to be fine. I’m sorry if I was rough with you before. I didn’t mean it if I hurt you. I was super eager, that’s all. Can you really blame me, man? Healthy, attractive, unbonded omega plays right into my hands. Any alpha would’ve done the same to you. Maybe even fucking worse. At least I’m not gonna chain you up and use you as a breeder or something evil like that.” The alpha’s tone was saccharine, falsely tender. “Just think, though. You and I, we’re the most powerful bonded pair in existence now. With a god like me by your side, nobody’s gonna try and touch you. We can do whatever we want and _nobody_ gets to tell us otherwise. Every last bitch in the universe will be dying to cater to our whims. And those who oppose us get crushed.” 

From his place on the bed, Rhys finally looked at Troy, his own eyes swollen and red-rimmed. Their gazes met, Troy’s pupils blown wide. His whole expression seemed to teeter on the verge of madness. There was still something grounded there, though. Some rationality to it all, as if the alpha knew not all of his claims were sound, but would like to believe them anyway. 

And a part of Rhys, it was beginning to unravel, take on a little of that madness for itself. It wanted to believe Troy, just as Troy so desperately wanted to believe himself. If only to spare itself from further anguish and make the situation bearable. 

Of course, embracing the madness was only one path. He could still deny the alpha, still fight tooth and nail to escape his impending fate. Hope could still be fostered, from however small the internal force was inside him. It didn’t matter how much of the shit he was in. 

It would be up to his will to survive to decide. 

Rhys steeled himself for the inevitable battle that would rage inside him in the coming days.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I tagged this story as 'bad end', but I felt that was necessary for folks who may want to avoid the bleaker side of this fic. As it stands, I consider this ending more ambiguous or open-ended. It's very possible that Rhys could prevail, but it's just as possible that he might not. I believe he has an equal opportunity for both outcomes, and felt the fic worked better without it being blatantly stated.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Some of my influences for this work were **Celldweller's** _Wish Upon a Blackstar_ and _End of an Empire_. You can poke me over on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MorteAmore)


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